


And In the End

by dontbefancy



Series: Angel in a Red Vest Verse [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 21:11:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3148688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontbefancy/pseuds/dontbefancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prequel to Angel in a Red Vest: Meet Maggie, Adrian’s mother, in three of her final days. Through her we get to know Blaine from a new perspective, get to see her dreams for her best friend and for her son and see how it carries him forward to our original story.</p><p>This is a bit of an unorthodox fanfic, I’ll admit. But, I hope if you loved Angel in a Red Vest, you’ll give it a whirl. I know some of you feel that without both Kurt and Blaine in it, it’s not something you’d enjoy, but Kurt's presence is still felt. And for the Adrian fans, yes. He does make an appearance.</p><p>There is angst. There is hope. There is laughter. There is love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. October Seven

Today had been a very bad day. Every day was turning out to be a bad day and Maggie knew, as much as she tried to keep up the positive façade, that nothing was going to get any better than it was now.

Except that today, in a matter of minutes when Blaine's shift was over, he would be at her side. She didn't have energy to do much lately, so clock-watching became an odd hobby.

_I can have another morphine bolus in 15 minutes. That's 5 recitations of our high school Alma Mater._

_I smell butterscotch pudding. From smell to mouth, that takes 10 minutes unless mom adds whipped cream - then it will be a little longer while she lets the pudding cool. I love it when she adds whipped cream._

_That nap lasted 85 minutes, so now there are only 25 minutes until Daddy comes over and we can play gin rummy. And after 30 minutes of that, I’ll need another nap._

_The home health nurse is starting water, which means I'm getting a sponge bath. In a few minutes, I’ll have 15 minutes of bliss._

_This blunt will last 25 minutes if I'm careful, which guarantees me about 50 minutes without pain._

But her favorite occasion to count time was when it was close to Blaine's arrival, like now. Sometimes he'd have Adrian with him, but lately – by mutual decision – he would come alone. Some days Blaine would come in smelling smoky and warm and masculine, and others it would be masculine, but more outdoorsy, cool like the fall air that was settling onto the earth outside.

Outside. She tried with all of her might not to miss things yet. _I have an eternity to miss the bliss of this life_. But, try as she might, she missed the out-of-doors. She was able to go outside when spring changed to summer, but that magical time of summer fading into fall she watched from inside her living room-made-bedroom in her apartment.

She insisted the bed face the window, even if it wasn't proper design aesthetic – _who asked you, Mrs. Anderson?_ – so she could watch the leaves change color, watch the skies of evening dusk deepen into a steel blue behind the houses aglow with the setting sun. She missed that nip in the air that made you pull your jacket and scarf up closer to your neck and snuggle closer to your companion – Daddy, Mom, Blaine, Adey. Her girlfriends.

Girlfriends that had all but disappeared as she disappeared to the ravages of this horrible, life-sucking disease. They tried, they did. When she was first diagnosed, they were there to go out and help drink away the pain. To watch Adrian when she'd have doctor appointments. Celebrate when the first mass was gone. And they stayed with the second diagnosis.

For a time.

Some would hold her hair when she was sick from the chemo. Or, they'd drive her to doctor appointments or again, watch Adrian so she could go without burdening her mother even more. They helped Blaine learn to cook a few dishes so he could be more help both to Sharon and to Maggie. But then it became clear. She wasn't getting better. She wasn't _going_ to get better.

Her hair started to fall out in clumps. Her skin had an odd gray pallor. Her energy level depleted and she knew – she could see in the mirror – she became uncomfortable to be around. One by one, they were busier than usual. Had kids sicker than usual this season, _you know how it is._ Were suddenly working extra hours and were just so.completely.exhausted.

Maggie didn't blame them. Not really. Not much. She saw how taxing caring for her was on her parents, on Blaine, even on Adrian. But, sometimes a nice heavy sigh shared between girls would be nice. You never needed words in those times and lately, speaking words was increasingly tiresome.

But, she did have – would always have Blaine and her parents, and they were all she needed. And at this point of the illness, she really didn't want to be around anyone but her closest anyway. And these three – four if you counted Adrian – weren’t just her closest. They were her everything.

The screen door whined and Blaine's customary two knocks on the wooden frame made her heart race – just as they did back when he was still at the fire academy and would take a weekend to visit. Only then, her bed wasn't in the living room and her long wavy copper-colored hair would fly behind her as she'd run to greet him, welcoming him with hugs and kisses and questions about how he was learning to be a hero. But now, it was all she could do to pull a smile and reach out her hand as he approached, the worry a permanent wrinkle in his otherwise flawless face.

"Blainey…"

"Hey, baby." He kissed her forehead and traced around the edge of her scarf, surely remembering when he'd brush her bangs from her brow – because she remembered every time he did it. "How is today?"

She waited until he was settled in the bedside chair. She hated that chair. No one ever looked comfortable in it and no one would admit to such. It made her feel like a poor hostess. "It's better now that you're here."

"You say that every time I'm here."

"It's true every time you're here."

"Mmm. I see. I smell butterscotch."

"I smell a fireman. Did you have a run today?"

"Little one. Garage fire. Some guy's band saw didn't seem to like his latest project."

"What was it?"

"He said it was a gun rack."

"Serves him right for having guns."

Blaine smiled at her and kissed her cheek. He did a lot of kissing lately and every time his lips touched her skin, she knew at least that part, for that time, was well and healthy and whole. "I heard your voice say _just that_ when he told me.”

“And what did you say in return?”

“Mags, people have a right to bear arms."

"And then I’d say, _Just because you can, doesn—_ "

"—mean you should. Yes, I know. And before you ask, yes. His son is 8."

"The fool."

Blaine laughed softly and traced her hand with his fingers, never taking his eyes off of her. Even when she would have to close her eyes in pain. Or exhaustion. Or to check in with whomever or whatever was waiting on her on The Other Side to see if it was time yet.

It wasn't. Not tonight.

"Have you been able to eat today?"

"Some of Mom's pudding. There's a bowl in the fridge for you."

"Would you like to share it with me?"

"I would."

And they did, Blaine feeding her because sometimes the act of lifting a spoon to her mouth was entirely too much work. And sometimes, she simply liked being cared for, giving up the desire to be fiercely independent until the end.

At this point in life, independence was overrated.

She moaned around every spoonful as if it was the most succulent morsel of Belgian chocolate. As they ate, Sharon left for home, tutting and fussing and making sure they had everything they needed before she left them alone. Blaine insisted on giving Sharon much needed time off, so he would be around the entire weekend. She reluctantly accepted with promises upon promises of calls if they needed anything, and of course – if the inevitable became inevitable.

But at the moment, the inevitable wasn't so they finished, Blaine giving Maggie the final spoonful of whipped cream and pudding, just like she used to do for him when he was little. When he took the bowl to the kitchen, Maggie rode her bed down flat and turned to her side and waited.

Living was filled with waiting now.

"Maggie, you shouldn't move without help, honey." Now Blaine was the one tutting and fussing and rearranging her IV line but Maggie pawed at him, catching his arm to stop him.

"Just lie with me, please?"

And after changing out of his work clothes, he did. Because as much as the hospital bed was not made for two, it seemed to be made for them. Maggie breathed easier when he was curled around her. Her voice became stronger, her sleep more peaceful, her energy more vibrant – if only for a time.

"Go to sleep now." And he wrapped his arms around her, rubbing gently at her stomach, where the illness lived and grew and hurt.

"I love you, Blainey."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

***

_I can still see daylight through my closed eyes, so it's not 8pm yet. More than 48 hours with Blaine. Bliss._

She woke to the odd sensation of tape being pulled from her IV site, opening her eyes to see her best friend, her heart, her love gingerly inspecting the site, expertly re-taping it once he seemed satisfied.

"It's been itchy."

"It looks a little irritated. We'll ask the aide when she comes. Maybe we can move it."

"I don’t want to be stuck again."

"I know. You might have to decide which you'd prefer – itchy skin or another stick."

"I'd prefer for you to get back in bed with me."

Blaine stopped his work and looked up to her, with a grin. Lately, his smiles rarely equaled the standard 900-kilowatt smiles he so readily offered. Blaine didn't fake his smiles. And there just wasn't much to smile about.

"How about a bathroom visit first, and then I'll join you."

This, Maggie decided weeks ago, was the worst part of this entire affair. The humiliation. And, it wasn't like Blaine didn't do everything in his power to make it easier on Maggie. He knew how to be discreet. Respectful. At first, it was just a walk to the bathroom, but as the weeks progressed, she needed help cleaning herself, pulling her underwear back up and she knew, because she had been told, that they would eventually have to catheterize her. Most likely, her body would simply stop producing urine.

It was all dehumanizing, really.

But, Blaine made it all as pain-free as possible, giving her privacy, holding her when she'd buckle down and cry about it anyway, never ever once making it more awkward than it naturally was. He didn't need a firefighter's certificate to be a hero.

Not to Maggie.

He helped her back in bed, offering her a drink, a movie, a massage, but this evening what she wanted was a discussion.

"I've made a decision, and I don't want any arguments from you."

"I argue with you?"

"Always politely, but I don't even want your polite arguments this time."

"I'll do my best." She was reclined again and he jimmied himself around so he could lie next to her, propped on an elbow, gently rubbing her stomach as they spoke, his finger slipping into the large ring she wore on a long chain around her neck. She hadn't even had it a year before it was too big for her thumb.

"I want to sign the papers to change Adrian's name. He needs to have yours after I'm gone."

"Maggie…"

"You're not trying very hard."

That brought a real grin _and_ a blush, the combination always making her heart soar. "I just don't want him to lose your name too."

"And I don't want either of you to have to explain why his name is different from yours. Please, Blaine." Her voice was raspy and weak, but her heart, her intention couldn't have been more strong and firm.

"Mags…he has to have _you_ , I mean—"

"I've figured it out and we're really stupid for not thinking of this earlier."

"We've sort of had other things on our minds."

"Well, I'm tired of worrying about other things. Finances are done. Custody is done. I just want to think about Adrian now. He's the happiest thought I have…next to you."

He kissed her forehead again, brushing imaginary hair away from her cheeks. "What's your idea?"

"You hate his middle name. Always have…and don't you _even_ give me that face like you have no idea what I’m talking about, Blaine Devon Anderson."

"I'm no—I am _not_ giving you any kind of face, _Margaret Ann James_." He sighed. She wasn't budging. "Okay, no one can freaking pronounce it _or_ spell it, Maggie. No one."

"So you say. So give him my name as his new middle name."

Blaine studied her eyes, grinning back at her sweet, sleepy smile. And then, "Adrian James Anderson? We actually _can_ do away with Joaquin!"

"See? Now you can't wait."

"Don't even joke about that."

And she had to blink away at the anger that flashed in his eyes, forgetting that really, the only joking that could go on had to stay in her head. Because no one – absolutely no one – saw any humor in the idea that she'd be gone soon. She wished that maybe they could allow themselves to chuckle a little, but every time she tried she was scolded and silenced.

But, sometimes, joking about death was the only thing that made the idea bearable.

"Will you bring me the papers? I know the attorney wrote them up – he just wanted the name."

"Adrian James Anderson…are you sure? I mean, I love it and—god, Maggie…" His voice broke and she brought her hand up, boney knuckles brushing against his cheek, hoping to get there before a tear fell. She didn't.

"Stop. We're not doing that right now. I need you to _live_ with me—"

"—not wait for you to die. Right." He kissed her fingers and curled their hands between them. "Want to watch a _Top Chef_?"

"Yes. Unless they do something with geoduck and then it's off."

"You just don't like that it looks like a huge penis."

"I love a huge penis as much as you do, darling. I just don't want one served on a platter with a wasabi garnish."

***

_One episode of Top Chef is 44 minutes long. 44 minutes with Blaine wrapped around me, making me feel whole._

Thankfully, no one served geoduck. In fact, what they did serve made them both hungry enough to sit Maggie up completely and get some real food in her. It didn't amount to much – nibbles of the turkey from his sandwich and spoonfuls of vegetable soup and maybe, don't tell her mom, another shared bowl of butterscotch pudding. And maybe, _really_ don't tell her mom, a bowl of whipped cream. Because _oh my god_ whipped cream.

"You know, Mags. You are an adult. If you want two bowls of pudding a day…"

"I know. She wouldn’t care and just make more anyway. I just—don't you ever feel guilty about doing something your parents hate? Even still?"

Blaine blinked and hid an incredibly naughty smile. A loving smile came through instead because she was so tired, she didn't realize how absolutely pornographic he could go with that answer. So he didn't. "Not really. My parents tried to make me feel guilty for accidentally overthrowing baseballs into the neighbors' yards. Not their windows. Their _yards_. You know how they are."

"So how come you're such a good dad—" Maggie clutched at her gut and moaned, closing her eyes as she tried to breathe through the pain. It wasn't working.

"This isn't ‘too-much-whipped-cream’ pain is it?"

She shook her head and pointed to _the tin_ – the tin that hid and stored the marijuana.

"Have you had one today?"

"No. Roll me one, please?"

Blaine checked her IV and the time – it was another half hour until her morphine bolus. "We need to tell the aide when she comes tomorrow. You need more…"

She nodded and pointed to the tin again, ignoring all that that truth meant. "I'd rather smoke anyway. More natural."

As Blaine gathered the supplies and began to roll a cigarette for her, he teased, "And what was your excuse _before_ the cancer, my dear?"

"Hush. It's not nice to torment the patient. Besides, you never complained when I shared."

"No. No, I did not. You were the coolest girl on the planet." He lit the blunt and handed it over to her, rubbing on her right side where she'd been clutching in pain.

"And I'm not anymore?" She took the longest drag her strength would let her, holding it in, hoping, praying, _willing_ it to take the pain away. And it did. It always did. Maybe not instantly, but soon enough.

"You will always and forever be the coolest girl on the planet."

"What if you have a daughter someday?"

"I won't have a daughter someday."

"Blainey, you don't _know_ that."

"Actually, yes I do. For me to have a daughter I would have to walk my ass into a fertility clinic again, jack off into a cup again, hand it over and hope it all takes again – all for someone I've yet to meet. Those first three steps?" He takes a long toke and blows the smoke out through a soft smile, offering it back again. "Won't be happening, and if I _do_ meet another girl who wants to have my baby, she's going to have to find another volunteer."

"Adey and I have made it _that_ horrible for you."

"Stop. You know that's not what I mean. I love him. Our _son_ , Maggie. I don’t regret it for a minute."

"But what if—you know, here." She hands him the cigarette and lifts the back of her bed up. "Put this out. We need to talk some more."

"I'd prefer to smoke some more."

"I can't have you high. What if I die in the next 15 minutes?"

"If you're not careful, I'm going to call _my mother_ and have her take over this weekend. You're not playing nicely at all."

"Your mother is too busy folding cloth napkins for her next cotillion to be bothered with me."

"I take it you're feeling better."

"On a scale of _I have cancer_ to _I'm dying_ I'm at about a 6.8. An improvement from ten minutes ago, yes."

"I swear the weed works better than the morphine."

"It just doesn't last as long."

He cleaned up and put on some music as she watched his every move. He really was her best friend in every way possible. Maybe even in ways that would make some raise their eyebrows, but especially now, no one else's opinions mattered much. He loved her unconditionally and had before _he_ could remember. But she remembered all of it.

He was three and Cooper had to drag him along to one of their outings. Cooper was miserable. Blaine was miserable and Maggie took over, refusing to let two cute boys be miserable in her then 13-year-old company. Cooper remained miserable, but that was because he was 13 and stubborn and just not in the _mood_ to have his little brother hanging around.

But Blaine took to her like little boys take to mud. Innately. Wholeheartedly. He rolled around in her, making new adventures and stories and games with each new meeting. And really, until her second diagnosis, it never stopped. Now, the spring rains had stopped and the mud became dry and immovable but Blaine would still come and bring his own magic to pull out every bit of life he could from what they had left.

He loved her. She loved him.

She was so tired.

The talking could wait.

While he rinsed dishes in the kitchen, she lifted the incline of her bed as upright as it would go and grabbed for her robe, wrapping it around her shoulders as she dangled her feet off the edge of the bed. The floor seemed so far down, so her initial idea of hopping off and going to the kitchen was curtailed. She waited.

"Maggie. What are you doing?"

"I want to sleep in my own bed tonight."

"Honey…"

"If I can walk to the can, I can walk three more feet to my bedroom." She grabbed at the IV stand and started to scoot to the edge, willing a smile to push through the pain as Blaine met her before her feet touched down. "Please? Sleep with me?"

"No talk tonight?"

"Tomorrow." She met his sad eyes and nudged his chin with her head. "Blainey. I know there's tomorrow. We're still okay."


	2. October Eight

_7 am. I slept for 10 hours. That means I have 14 hours with him today – minus naps. And another night. And another day. And another night. Then Mom and Dad take over again._

Morning came after a semi-restful night, Maggie stilling and quieting at every waking moment with the warmth of Blaine's body, words of love and encouragement and secrets whispered in her ears as she settled, letting his touch, his presence, his love ease her pain as much as he could.

She passed on breakfast and napped for another hour after walking back to her hospital bed. "I overdid it yesterday."

"I was afraid of that."

The mood was subdued this morning. She shouldn't have left the hospital bed. The walk was too much for her legs, no longer strong enough to hold her body up, what little of her body that was left. But she needed one more night. One more night to capture all the sleepovers she and Blaine shared when he needed a night away from home.

The night he came out to his parents.

The night his first love broke his heart.

The night his dad told him not to speak of his personal life at the dinner table.

The night Cooper told them he was never moving home again.

As they aged, the overnights didn't stop, but they stopped being about letting Blaine escape the ugly things in his young life, and began to be about celebrating and regrouping after the realities of each of their adult lives.

Nights after fatal fires or pitiful break-ups with mis-matched partners.

The night she was diagnosed the first time. The second time.

But the _best_ sleepover was the night she found out she was pregnant. They didn't sleep at all that night. They cried with joy and cried with fear and fought over baby names and laughed at the options and then, weeks later when she picked one of the names that he had laughed at, they fought and she kicked him out of _that_ sleepover. At 4 am. And she spent the rest of the night crying, knowing she'd made the worst mistake of her life with the stupidest man to ever exist.

Until he showed up three hours later with a bouquet of yellow roses. And one pure white rosebud for Adrian _Joaquin_ James. And from that moment on he was the best biological-but-was-never-meant-to-be-a-daddy daddy. And Maggie knew she'd done the smartest thing in her entire life with the most amazing man to ever exist.

"Blaine."

"Yeah, sweetheart?" He had his reading glasses on while she rested – again. It was going to be a sleeping day and she was angry. She didn't want to waste a moment with him, but he was sitting there in her recliner with his feet up, slippered and warm and looking a lot like a young grandpa. He was the most beautiful man she would ever know. She was going to fight the exhaustion for now.

"Come sit with me. We need to have that talk now."

They laid side-by-side on her bed, a glass of ice water between them for her to sip at as she needed. At first, she didn't speak, letting him trace her face with his fingers as if memorizing every freckle, every curve, every line. His gaze dropped to the bed, resting on the ring that was still attached to the chain around her neck. And then finally, "You really should be resting."

"No. I need to be doing this right now." She took his hand in hers, kissing his knuckles hoping for eye contact, getting none. "I need you to make some promises for me."

Blaine's gaze shot up to meet hers. He breathed out a desperate, "No," as he shook his head.

"Yes."

"No. I'm not ready—I don't want to have this conversation yet."

"Blaine. I'm tired. I pee once a day. I can't swallow the oral morphine and my cannula site is getting infected. You know my veins aren't going to allow another stick. I'm surviving on butterscotch pudding and your love. It's time to have this conversation."

She let the words sink in for a moment, his breath becoming as erratic as hers. "I'm done, Blaine."

"Maggie…" Blaine was fighting back tears, squeezing the sheets in his fists. She knew he was trying to keep it together for her, but he really didn't need to. This was worthy of tears.

They had dreams they'd never see fulfilled together. They had a child they'd never raise together. They had each other's weddings they'd never stand for. So much ahead of them that would never be shared. Tears were expected and more than okay.

She lifted a shaky hand to his face and at her touch, his tears spilled. She let him weep, kissing his cheeks as tears stained them, not hushing him, but comforting him, her heart breaking at his heartbreak. And as he fell apart, all she could think about was how lucky they were to have this. This love. This friendship. This trust and companionship. It was bigger than both of them and it surrounded them as he stilled, wiping his tears, apologizing for his fear.

"No apologies. Just promises okay? So I can go knowing everything's in order."

He leaned in and kissed her lips, soft and dry, tender and true. "I love you so much."

"You know you're the only boy I've ever really loved." She kissed the tip of his nose and swore she saw a flash of nine-year-old Blaine – after another time she kissed the tip of his nose. He'd fallen off of his bike and, being nine, was properly humiliated – and sore. He limped back to her, a tear streaming down his cheek and mumbled _don't let anyone know I'm crying_. She inspected his knees and kissed his nose, popping him on the backside to send him off again. That little boy was still here, still pleading that she would understand how broken he was, and would cover his weakness with business. "Now. You said you'd get the papers for the name change?"

"They're out. I emailed the attorney after you fell asleep last night. He'll be here at 2 o'clock."

"Today?"

"Today. It'll probably be official before—" Blaine voice broke again and he looked down, scooping up the ring into his fist, holding it tight.

"That's fine. That way I'll know it's done."

Blaine nodded wordlessly as she twirled her fingers in the curls that framed his face. "Maggie…you said…you were done. Do I—do I need to call your parents, or—"

"No. Today and tomorrow belong to us. And, I want to see my daddy again. And Adrian."

"But you said—"

"I know what I said. But, I need my son. Can they bring him by tomorrow?"

"I can go get him – they've done so much for us already."

"No! Please. Don't leave me."

"Maggie, you're scaring me."

"I'm fine. Well, I mean, I'm not fine, but I just…please don't leave me, okay?"

"Okay. I'm not going anywhere."

She wasn't fine. She could feel her life slipping from her grip with every breath. But she _was_ going to see Adrian again. She _was_ going to have this weekend with Blaine. She _was_ going to play one more hand of gin-rummy with her daddy and by god, she _was_ going to have another two or three bowls of butterscotch pudding. Or whipped cream. Or both.

And she was going to tell Blaine all that she had on her mind. Even if it took the rest of the weekend in between naps. Because he had to know. He had to hear.

He had to promise.

She took in a big drink from her straw and motioned for Blaine to put the cup on the table behind him. "I want to be as close as possible."

"Are you cold?"

"A little." Her feet were already covered with fuzzy socks. She already wore thick polar fleece pajamas, but with so little body fat left, it all seemed futile.

He untangled the sheets and blankets from beneath her legs and pulled everything up over both of them, holding her hand tightly between them, their ring – the three-diamond ring she'd purchased just before they found her second mass – secured between their hands, yet another unspoken promise. _The three of us_ – Maggie, Blaine and Adrian. Always. Forever.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Not for the blankets—I mean, thank you for those too, but…I think in all of the legal crap and the sick crap and the crap crap, I've forgotten to thank you."

"For??"

"Taking Adrian." She stopped and smiled – there was so much more than that. " _Making_ Adrian, first. For me. I'm so sorry I couldn't follow through on my promises."

"Maggie…you certainly—"

"Be quiet." They'd both been focusing on the fading print of her sheets, the movement of her thumb on his fingers, but with that command their eyes met, his frightened, hers shocked at the strength in her voice. "I have to get these things out, Blaine. You have to hear me or I won't rest."

"I'm listening."

"No arguing, remember?"

"No arguing. And I'm honored to take Adrian. To have helped your dream come true." He swallowed thickly. "I'm also terrified."

"Of?"

"I don't know how to be a dad. Not alone." Maggie waited and smiled, feeling pressure release around him like air from a tire. "I don't know how to love him like you do—I mean, I love him, you know I do, Maggie…he's _ours_ and he's perfect and smart – god he's so smart, and he's funny and kind and tender and everything anyone would want from their child, but that's all because of _you_." He stopped, a blush pinking his cheeks. "And I'm not listening at all, am I?"

"You don't see it, do you?"

"See what?"

"You just described yourself. Perfect and smart and funny and kind and…what else?"

"Tender?"

"Tender and brave and strong and so full of love you could explode with it. You can do this, Blaine. You have everything you need."

"But I won't have you."

"You have _everything_ you need."

"Tell me what to do. Tell me what promises you want me to make so I'll know I'm doing it right."

"Let him create. I know that's not where you're comfortable, but just let him and he'll lead the way."

"How will he…? I don't know the first thing about art."

"If he wants to draw, provide tons of blank paper and pencils and crayons. If he wants to sculpt, give him clay. When he tells stories, write them down or record them. If he wants to dance, give him space."

"I've been playing music in the evenings instead of having the TV on. He seems to like that." Blaine chuckles and Maggie thinks she sees a little more confidence playing in his eyes. "We have underwear parties."

"See?" She stops and laughs – the images in her mind of these two beautiful creatures dancing in their briefs the most beautiful things she's imagined in an age. "Feed him fresh food, but let him taste the heaven of an Oreo cookie now and then."

"He likes the mint ones."

Maggie nodded and kept going, finding strength in how well Blaine knew their son, even in the little ways. In how beautiful a life these two boys were going to make together. "Make sure he gets enough sleep every night, but let him have some nights where he can stay up criminally late."

"I think Nana does that more than enough."

"But you have to, too. You're in charge, but Blaine. He has to know that life is fun and full of joy. Leave your rigid disciplined schedule at the station, okay?"

Blaine nodded and teased, "I won't make him call me Lieutenant Captain."

"I think he'd trip and fall over that anyway. _Spaghetti_ just about makes him bruise his tongue."

" _Basketti._ And, what's the other one that he twists up so much? OH! _Mazagine!"_

They laughed and snuggled in closer, Blaine's leg gingerly slipping between hers. As their chuckles faded, Blaine's eyes filled with tears again, his brow furrowing as it was when they began this conversation. "Blaine?"

"I don't know what I'm going to do when—how do I—" A sob broke free and he gathered himself again to get it out, wrecked and broken. "How do I help him miss you?"

And that was all Maggie needed for her own dam to break. The dam of her stolid I-will-be-strong-for-my-family façade. Of her insistence of being brave.

Of her denial that the idea of not being around to raise her son was the most cruel joke of all. Her son, the child she'd wanted desperately enough to sleep around with all manner of men to get. The child she'd saved and paid for fertility treatments with money that could have been used to buy a house, or to get out of Findlay, or to get a decent car that didn't spit and sputter every time she turned the ignition. The child she made with her best friend after promises that he wouldn't be a part of raising him, potentially destroying their friendship, her heart.

It hurt. It hurt worse than the cancer coursing through her body. It hurt worse than the idea of never seeing Blaine or her parents again.

It wasn't fair. She had done _everything_ right. She loved unconditionally. She gave generously. She forgave completely.

And here was this man. This man who gave life _for_ her. _Through_ her. Because of him, it _became_ her – motherhood. And now she was being denied many of its richest blessings.

Her sobs echoed through the small apartment as Blaine pulled her in, never shushing her, simply cooing and stroking and agreeing with any verbal utterance she could muster in her grief. Deep, pained, aching grief. Grief for moments she would never get to experience. Adrian's first lost tooth. His first day of school. Learning how to ride a bike. His first crush and his first heartbreak. Proms and concerts and sporting events and art shows. Graduations and hangovers. Finding his life partner because dammit, _someone_ had to have been made to love this perfect boy.

It wasn't fair at all.

Finally she began to silence, taking the water Blaine insisted she drink, accepting the kisses he placed here and there as she stilled and stuttered to a ragged calm. "You need to rest now, sweetheart."

"I have so much more to say."

"After a nap, okay?"

Maggie nodded and snuggled deeper into the bed as he got out of it. "Will you get the oil? Rub my stomach?"

"Of course. What else do you need?"

"One more promise?"

"A million more."

"Please, don't let him forget me."

***

_It's dark o'clock. Another day is ending. I'm not ready…_

Maggie stirred awake to the scent of lavender and cardamom and Blaine's hands easing the pain that, interestingly enough, felt quieter than before. "Mmm…tell me you haven't been doing that the whole time I napped."

He chuckled gently and wiped his hands on a tissue, pressing a soft kiss right over her naval and smacking his lips in displeasure before covering her bare skin. "God. I forget how awful that oil tastes."

"Better than lube…" She took the water he offered and squinted to check the time. "Seven o'clock? No! I slept away the da—" Her IV line caught on the bed rail and she turned to glare – it was on the wrong hand. "Oh. Home health came by, didn't they?"

"Yep."

"And it was awful, wasn't it?"

"Pretty much."

She dared to look at her hands and arms, one red with the beginnings of site infection and the other, where the new IV lived, purple with bruising from failed attempts at finding a new vein. "I embarrassed myself, didn't I?"

"You were in pain. You reacted to it. I can't imagine what's embarrassing about that. But!" He walked to the dining table even as she reached for him and came back with a few documents. "After a visit to probate court Monday, Adrian will officially be Adrian James Anderson. You almost slept through that entire visit."

"They're not going to insist _I_ go to court, are they?"

"Nope. He got some sort of waiver from the judge. You were awake enough to sign, he notarized, I signed and I have to show up Monday to tell the judge it's what we want and why."

"…and then he's totally yours."

"His name is. _He_ won't be until—"

"Shush. Not now. Just—" She wiggled to her back, cursing at the new adjustments with the flipped IV, and pointed clumsily at her bed controls. "Sit me up, please. I'm afraid I'm going to fall asleep again."

"Then fall asleep again, baby…" He lifted her bed to sitting position even as he pushed for her to sleep.

"No. I've slept our time away and we have more to talk about."

"But the home health visit was horri—" Her eyes pleaded and he stopped and pulled up the uncomfortable, craptastical chair. "I'm listening."

She took his hand in hers, tracing each finger, flashbacks flying through her memory of his hands – the dimpled fingers as a toddler, lengthening and always scarred from rough-housing in elementary school, maturing and ultimately covered in callouses once he joined the fire department as a volunteer and now, strong, true, still-calloused and tender – a savior _and_ a helper. She looked to his eyes as he looked to hers, sadness reflecting in each other's weak smiles. "You're the love of my life."

"Maggie…"

"I know it's wrong. I know—it's never been a romance. It never could be; I never wanted it to be. Well—"

"What?"

Maggie blushed and huffed. "ONE night Blaine. You could have put up with vagina for ONE night!"

Blaine dropped his head to the mattress, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter. Finally, "You saw how successful of an endeavor that was with Cooper – and he's _straight_!"

"I know, I know…"

"Besides, I'm not going to be my brother's sloppy seconds…"

"Okay, first. Coop and I were _one_ night. One miserable awful horrible disastrous don't-even-look-at-me-again night. Second…" She touched a finger to his jaw, making sure he was looking her in the eye. "Second, don’t joke. You're second in _nothing_ to Cooper."

"He tries, Maggie."

"You succeed."

"You…really _wanted_ me?"

"Now and then. I've seen you kiss boys. I know how tender you are with me. You've got to be an _amazing_ lover."

"Well. No one's kicked me out…"

"But, Blaine. It's okay. I knew love because of you. I felt it. I tasted it. And I want—I need you to make another promise, okay?"

"You still have a million minus one. I think we're good."

"Promise me you'll stop casually dating. Find the love of your life. Let someone _love_ you." She could feel an argument from him bubbling to the surface and spoke before he could get it out. "He's out there, you know."

"I don't know. I can guarantee you he's not in Findlay."

"You _can't_ guarantee that. But, maybe you'll have to go to him."

"I don't see myself ever leaving this town, Mags. I think this is it for me."

"Did you see us sitting here waiting on me to die a few years ago?" He didn't answer and she took the silence to lay her head back and daydream. "Yes. I think you'll have to go to him."

And he played along. "Tell me about him."

"Mmm…well, for one, he's _not_ a fucking jock. Seriously, Blaine. You always go for these super ripped steroid-stupid, weight-lifting firefighter dunderheads."

" _Dunderheads?_ Really now…so, what's he like then?"

"He's…elegant. Sturdy, yet graceful. Lithe, well-toned. He takes care of himself. He's confident." She dared to watch his reaction and grinned ridiculously at the look on his face – as if she'd just revealed his biggest secret. "Don’t be so surprised, Anderson. I see what pages you slow down on when you're flipping through my fashion maga—excuse me, my _maZagines_."

"Okay, so you found me out. I don't date guys like that because guys like that don't live in Findlay. Or the few that do are so full of themselves there's no room in there for me. And definitely not for our son."

Maggie hummed and laid back again, closing her eyes while she peacefully daydreamed. "He's an artist."

"What kind?"

"I don't know. Painting. Sculpture. Music. Not a bar musician though – something classical and refined. Or, maybe fashion or – maybe he's writing the next great American novel and he has to come to Anytown, USA for inspiration."

"I think I like this guy."

"Yes, I do too. Since I won't be able to properly vet him, I guess I'll just have to tell you my requirements."

"Should I be taking notes?"

"Yes. He'll _love_ our son, Blaine." She turned to him, the light-hearted nature of this conversation coming to an abrupt halt. "Not love him because he's cute. Or love him because he wants to get laid. Or because that makes him some sort of fucking hero. He'll love him because he's yours. Because he loves you first."

"Now I _know_ you're dreaming. You know how guys react when they find out I have a kid."

"So, you don't need me – or anyone – to vet _those_. They're assholes."

"How will I know? How do I know he's not just playing house to get to the dad? I'm still figuring out how to _be_ a dad, no less date as one."

"You'll know. Maybe, he'll have a connection to Ade that you don't have. One of your weaknesses will be his strength. And he'll just fall into it like he was made for it."

"It's a lovely dream."

"If you open yourself up, Blaine – open up your heart like you always have for me – you'll find him."

"I don't have much room in my heart for that. It's filled with you."

"Well." Maggie leaned over and cupped Blaine's face in her hands, pressing a kiss to his lips. "I'm scooting over soon. There will be plenty of room."


	3. October Nine

_Scrambled eggs take about 10 minutes start to finish. It will take me at least 15-20 to eat the fool things. Then, only 45 minutes until Adrian's here – the blood in my veins._

Just as Maggie got her bed upright, Blaine appeared with a plates of food to share, a strip of bacon sticking out of his mouth.

"You. Have bacon. That is rude."

"Oh." He opened his mouth and let it plunk onto his plate. "Shit. Mags. I'm. Sorry. I didn't even—I'm sorry. I'll toss it."

"Stop. Mom makes it every damned morning. The smell is still nice."

Swallowing. A skill most people take for granted. She could. She did. But, it was increasingly difficult and anything harder than – well, probably scrambled eggs – just wouldn't go down right. It was exasperating, although the blessing of it – if there was one – was that her appetite went right along with the skill.

Still. Bacon. God, it looked delicious.

He fed her eggs between bites of his own as she longingly watched each piece of bacon disappear into his mouth. "Stop staring at me and chew."

"Chewing. I think this is my last plate of eggs. It all feels stuck in my throat."

He gave her some water and took her plate. "I'm sorry."

"Don't. Just. We'll have some pudding or soup later, okay?" He started to go to the kitchen with their plate, but, "Blaine?"

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"I slept a lot yesterday. And last night. And I could probably nap again before Adey gets here."

"That's good. It means you're not hurting so much."

"Is it because she gave me more morphine? I'm drowsy because of the drugs?"

He put their plate down and sat down in the uncomfortable chair, scooping her hand in his, inspecting the new cannula site, avoiding her gaze. "No. She—she said it wouldn't make you more drowsy, but—"

"But I'm going to sleep more as—" Maggie let a puff of air go as she brought Blaine's hand up to her lips, ghosting them over his knuckles. "As I get closer."

He stood and nodded, pressing his forehead to hers where they said nothing more, exchanging breath, space, time. Finally, Maggie pulled away to focus on the present. "20 minutes 'til Adrian." Her heart smiled, but her face was full of anxiety and sadness.

"Are you sure you're up for it?"

She said nothing. Of course she was.

Of course she wasn't.

Twenty minutes later, as if someone was setting their watch to the accuracy of it, the doorbell rang and Maggie waited helplessly as Blaine greeted his neighbor. Mrs. Wagner had been a godsend, taking so many hours out of her life to help care for Adrian while Blaine worked and helped care for Maggie. She ached to get up and participate in the conversation she was overhearing.

_"How is she doing today?"_

_"She's hanging in." Blaine grunted and picked up Adrian who refused to put his backpack on the foyer floor._

_"I gots something for Mom!"_

_"We'll be back in what? An hour? Is that enough time? Too much?"_

_"An hour's good. If she gets tired, we'll watch a movie until you come back."_

_"I'm just so sorry, Blaine. It's just such a—"_

_"Yes. Thank you so much – as always."_

She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard the door close. Mrs. Wagner was irreplaceable but sometimes, she didn't know when to be quiet. The last thing Blaine needed was a reminder of how tragic—

_"Is Mommy sleeping?"_

_"Nope. She's waiting for you."_

"How's my pumpkin pie!?" Blaine put Adrian on the bed, whispering a reminder not to bounce and to be gentle, which of course _Daddy_ , he already knew. And then she had a thought. "Pumpkin pie! Blaine! Call mom and have her bring me a pie tomorrow. I can eat the filling. Oh _god_ that sounds good."

"I'll ring her now. Ade…you remember what I told you?"

"Yes, Daddy. I'm bein' gentle."

"Yes, Daddy. He's being gentle. Now shoo." She took Adrian's hands in hers and smiled as brightly as she could. She knew was going to sleep the rest of the day away after this, but this was worth it. "So. How are you? How's school? Tell me everything."

"I'm good and it's _pre-school_ , Mommy." He straddled her hips and carefully sat, leaning over to rest on her chest sighing as her arms encircled him. "Your wires are on the wrong side."

"I know. They flipped them yesterday."

"Why?"

"Here, look." She showed him her left arm and he scrunched his nose at the red, irritated skin. "So, now it's over here. I'm not used to it either."

"But, the medicine is still making your hurt go away, right?"

"Right. But…"

"But not the sick. I 'member."

He quieted, rubbing her forearm tenderly as she soaked him in. His pear-apple shampoo scent. The way his curls brushed at her neck and chin. The tickle at her chest as his fingers twisted and played with the ring on her chain – just like his daddy did. The way he tried, hard as he might, to breathe in rhythm with her. He never quite managed – hers was shallow and irregular – but he'd try, sigh heavily and then try again.

"Did I overhear you say you had something for Mommy?"

He sat up with a start and grabbed his backpack. "I do! Mommy! We did tie-dye in school and Daddy talked to Mrs. Johnson to see if I could do something different than a t-shirt."

"Why? What's wrong with a cool tie-dye t-shirt?"

"Nothing. But, I wanted to make _you_ something. And you wear 'jamas all the time." He unzipped his bag and reached in, his arm disappearing into the bright blue nylon. His eyes widened as he grabbed what he was digging for and he stopped. "You ready?"

"I'm ready!"

"Close your eyes and hold out your hands." He showed her how in case she forgot, complete with wiggling fingers.

She followed his orders and then teased, "You're not going to put pumpkin goop in my hands are you?"

"Mommy! You can't tie-dye pumpkin goop!!"

Blaine came into the room and walked over to the bed, and began caressing Maggie's neck as Adrian pulled his treasure out of the bag.

"Okay, open 'em!"

Maggie did and gasped at the bright colors and the bright grin on Adrian's face as he pooled the silky fabric in her hands. "Oh, Adey…"

"It's a scarf, Mommy. Feel how soft it is? And—and, I picked your fav'rite colors."

"You did. Look at all the blue and purple and a little green over here." She lifted it to her face, closing her eyes as the silk cooled her skin. "It's _beautiful_ , baby."

"Put it on?"

"Oh. I will. After you go. I promise." She began to fold it, lifting it to her skin, getting slight whiffs of Adrian every time it neared her nose.

"No. I want to see it on you _now_!"

"Adrian, watch your tone."

"But, Daddy. I made it and I want to—"

"It's—it's okay." She reached back for Blaine, scrabbling her fingers in his shirt. "I'm bald. That's just how it is."

"It doesn't scare me anymore, Mommy. Not like before."

Without another word, Maggie reached up and pulled her scarf back and off of her head, chuckling as Adrian's frown smoothed across his forehead and his mouth slipped into a very definitive, "Oh!"

"Mommy! Your head's all fuzzy." Which properly broke the tension, Blaine reaching up and smoothing at the super short, super fine blonde hairs that covered her scalp. It was patchy and virtually invisible, but Adrian was enamored. "Can I?" He reached a dimpled hand out and she took hold of it, leaning forward. "Can I touch it?"

"Yep. You know how good a head rub feels, don't you, Buddy?"

"I do. You give the best ones when I'm sick or sad." He tickled at the front of her hairline and giggled, bravely spreading his fingers and adding the other hand, gently swirling his hands around to massage her head.

"Oh, Adrian. That feels _good_."

And so they settled, Maggie laying down again with Adrian behind her, rubbing her head. Silently. Sweetly. Sometimes he'd dot a kiss at the nape of her neck and then she heard Adrian whisper another, "Oh!" when Blaine pulled the chair around behind his son and started massaging his scalp. "Daddy, you do that almost better than Mommy."

"I've had lots of practice."

Adrian and Maggie nodded off for a light nap. Every time she'd stir the slightest bit, Adrian's fingers started rubbing her scalp again, fully tuned in. She finally stirred enough to reach up and take his hand, finding Blaine's there as well, holding all three together at the crook of her neck.

Her boys. Her life. Her heart. "I love you guys so much."

More peaceful silence surrounded them until Blaine uncomfortably cleared his throat with the news she did not want to hear. "Mags, Adrian's ride will be here in about ten minutes."

"Oh. God. Okay, let's sit back up and put this on, okay?"

Blaine tied the scarf for her, having become quite the pro at it over the last few weeks, and they waited for Adrian's approval. "Mommy?"

"Yes, baby."

"You are the most beautiful-est girl in the whole world."

Maggie thought she could hold it together, but hearing Blaine's choked gasp, she too buckled, clasping her hand over her mouth as tears flowed, pulling him into her, ignoring his bony knees colliding with her bony…everything. She held him tight, kissing every spot on him she could reach while he squirmed. "Mommy…no…don't CRY!"

"It's happy tears, baby. Happy. You make me so…" She looked to Blaine for strength as he bit back tears, rubbing his son's back, her head, holding it together as best as he could. Their eyes locked and they knew. These were not happy tears. Fear. Grief. Resolution. But for Adrian…"So incredibly happy, Adey. That's how I'm beautiful. It's you."

She found purchase, his little hand patting at her arms, scooping the ring up into his hands as he shushed her and finally, finally was able to speak again. "I'm sorry sweetheart. Sometimes I love you so much, I have to cry."

"It's okay." His eyes were shining and huge, his father's in exact replica – always full of hope and promise even when everything was clearly falling apart.

"Adrian, Mrs. Wagner is going to be here soon. I need to tell you a few things, okay?"

"Okay."

"Sometimes, Daddy is going to ask you to do something you don't want to do."

"I know."

"And you need to remember that whatever he asks, is something I'd want from you too. So you listen to him, okay?"

"Okay."

"I want you to love everyone. _Everyone_."

"Even the meanie butts."

"Even the meanie butts. They probably have something very sad or angry that you don't know about. So, love them. You don't have to like them, but—"

"Yes." He swallowed thickly and took her ring in his hand, grabbing for his Daddy's hand to join his. "Mommy? Are you going away _soon_?"

She closed her eyes and squeezed her boys' hands as tightly as she could. "I'm going away soon. But, I don't _want_ to go away. Always remember that."

"You won't be sick anymore."

"I won’t be sick anymore. And I will always, always love you."

The doorbell rang and she gasped, holding him tightly to her as Blaine extricated himself from the tangle of arms and hands to get the door, tears streaming down his face.

_"Hi, Mrs. Wagner. If you could wait here."_

_"Is she—is she okay?"_

_There was a quick shuffling and Blaine raised his voice a hair. "She's fine. You need to please wait right here."_

_"She's not gone—"_

_"No. Just. Give them a few more minutes. Please. And when I come back with him, take him quickly so I can get back to her."_

"I love you, Mommy." He sat up and reached out to stroke the scarf around her head. "When you go away, will you wear this scarf?"

"Oh baby. I'd be honored."

"Mrs. Wagner is here."

"She is. Come give me kisses."

And he did, dotting her with kisses on her forehead, her eyelids – he'd watched Daddy do that a lot – her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her chin and finally her lips, ending with a loud smack. He didn't fully understand what was happening, but that, quite possibly, was the sole grace in the entire ugly matter.

"Bye, Mommy."

"I love you, Adrian."

As she spoke his name, Blaine scooped him off of the bed, blowing her a soft kiss and whispering _ten more seconds,_ as she bit back the sobs building from within. Adrian waved over his daddy's shoulder until she couldn't see him anymore.

The door closed. There was a lingering silence until finally, she couldn't hold it in one more moment, sobs wrecking her body as she called for the one who could hold her up. Get her through.

"BLAINE!!!"

He was at her side within seconds, crawling into bed with her, scooping her into his arms as she fell apart, her heart being ripped from her body, the ache stronger than any she'd ever felt before, stronger than any medicine could cure.

Stronger, she feared, than even death could still.

***

_It looks like 9:14 and it's dark. Only nine more hours with Blaine. I don't want to sleep anymore…_

Maggie wept. And slept. And smoked. And wept. And slept. For almost eleven hours straight. And now, as she tried to focus, she felt a cool wash cloth on her eyes, Blaine's gentle voice welcoming her into the waking world.

"Hey, beautiful."

"That feels good. I'm swollen like a boxer, aren't I?"

"Yeah, non-stop crying does that. Did I wake you?"

"No." She rolled to her back and held the cloth to her eyes for a few moments, her arms feeling like lead. She flopped one arm down, then the other, rolling her head back to Blaine, trying to smile. "What did you do all day?"

"Watched you. Took a shower. Ate. Read. Watched you some more."

"I am an excellent entertainer."

He took the cloth and pressed it to her eyes one more time. "It's the first time you haven't woken up crying today."

"I'm too tired to cry anymore."

"Do you—do you think we've told him too much? Or maybe not enough?"

"I don't know. He's never been satisfied with the easy answers, has he?"

"No. He's smarter than both of us."

"That's what happens when you combine the DNA of two awesome people."

Blaine offered her a drink of water and kissed her forehead. "Can't argue with that."

She shooed the water away and looked at him, a little bit of panic and sadness in her eyes. "I'm not—I'm not thirsty anymore."

Their eyes met and she knew from the resolute sadness in his – this was typical. Expected. One time-keeping game she chose to ignore was how many hours it was between trips to the bathroom, primarily because it had been thirty-six. Thirty-six hours since the humiliation of it, which would be a joy, but for the reality that it meant her body was shutting down.

"Some pudding, maybe?"

"No. I don't want anything. Other than you."

Her voice was already raspy, dry, weak. But, she was determined to finish this out. To stay awake enough to soak up every minute that she had left.

"I'm right here. Do you want me to join you, or do you need some space to breathe?"

"I breathe better with you. Come hold me." So, he did, climbing into her bed behind her. "No, wait. I want to see your eyes." They jimmied and fixed and argued with the IV and finally, finally were both comfortable, resting together until Blaine broke the silence with a soft kiss.

"Can I ask you something or are you too tired to talk?"

"Ask me. I don't want to sleep anymore."

He took a deep breath, his question but a whisper. "Are you afraid?"

She moaned softly, so much more tired than twelve hours before – before the grief of losing Adrian took over the entirety of her being. "No. Not really. I'm more sad than anything."

Blaine nodded and brushed his hand down Adrian's scarf, bringing the tail to the front weaving it in and out of his fingers. "What do you think it will be like?"

"I know what I _want_ it to be like."

"Tell me. Maybe I won't be so afraid either."

"Of dying? Or of living without me?"

He sucked in a breath and averted her gaze. "I guess I'm afraid I won’t know the difference."

"Oh Blainey." She waited and watched and finally, "Look at me." When he did, her smile was tired but true, washed with a peace even she couldn't explain. "You'll live gloriously. I demand it."

"Well, then it will be so if you demand it."

"And, you can rest easy. I'll be somewhere beautiful. Beyond our imagination."

"You believe that?"

"I have no choice. And, I won't be alone. I know someone's waiting for me and—"

"Who? How do you know?"

"I see her. I don't her. Everyone guesses it's someone who's gone before, but I've never lost anyone – grandparents I didn't know, aunts, uncles. I just know it's a woman."

"Where is she?"

"In the light. And every time I see her, it's harder to turn away. I want to know where she's going to take me."

"Where do you _want_ her to take you?"

"A garden. With beaches. Mountains. Endless bookshelves. Big, soft easy chairs and a fresh cup of tea whenever I imagine it."

"Rhooibos?"

"Yes. Vanilla. And scarlet citrus."

"Do you want some tea now?"

"It doesn't taste good anymore, but it will there." Her eyes brightened as she continued to daydream. "They'll have the best chocolate, unending supply. The most fragrant incense and jewelry stores at every corner."

"Of course – I miss your bangles clanging around whenever you move."

"Me too. But, I'll be able get new ones every day. And hemp anklets with rare beads. Rings and necklaces and hair pieces and oh god, Blaine. I'll have my _hair_!"

"Will you still wear your scarves?"

"This one." She fingered the tail of it, twining her fingers with Blaine's in the silky fabric. "Just this one."

She closed her eyes for a while and dozed, so much more to say and so little energy to get it out. She didn't want to leave him afraid. He had to know she would be okay. Peaceful. Healthy.

Her eyes fluttered open and she pinched him, his rugged hands absent-mindedly stroking her arm as he dozed. "Did I fall asleep?"

"A little. Blaine?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"There's a big room, a common room? It has a huge bay window – like at Shedd's Aquarium in Chicago? Remember that trip – with those awesome beluga whales?"

"I still need to get Adrian there one day. He will _flip."_

"Yes. He will." She sighed and disappeared back into her imagination. "That window will be where we can keep an eye on our loved ones. Nudge them in little ways. _Adrian, look before you cross the street – a car's coming._ Or _Blaine, this building isn't safe anymore – get out now._ Because as much as I'll always want to be with you again, I don't want you to miss one minute of life you're supposed to enjoy."

"You really believe that? That you can somehow interact—"

"I.have.no.choice. It's the only way I can let go."

"By not letting go."

"Yes. And if you date _one more_ dunderhead, I'm coming back to haunt your stupid ass."

"See, I might just have to date one more just to see Zombie Maggie."

"I'll be fabulous."

"And you'll kick my ass."

"I will."

They dozed again, gentle smiles never leaving their faces in their light sleep. "Blaine?"

"Mmm? I fell asleep again. I'm sorry."

"Take my necklace off."

His eyes snapped open and he pulled back, breathless, incredulous. "No."

"Yes. If you don't I will and that will take five times as long. Take it off."

"I gave that ring to _you_. It's yours. Don't start giving shit away, Maggie. I—I won't have it."

"That's right. You gave it to me so it's mine to do with as I please." She twisted a finger in a curl that drooped onto his forehead. "And put your bravado away – _I won't have it_? Give me a break, Anderson. Just take the damned thing off of my neck." She bent her head down, not intending to listen to another word from him. She was the one dying. She was going to get her way.

And he appeased her, of course he did, reaching around her neck to unhook the long chain so as to avoid tangling it in the fabric of Adrian's scarf. She took it from him to latch it back together but her fingers wouldn't cooperate, leaving her frustrated. "Dammit. Hook it. I'm sick of my body not working."

He took it and clumsily latched it, handing it back with a kiss to the tip of her nose. "You still work. The heart of you."

"Then you'll listen to me?" She took hold of his hand and opened it palm up, lifting an eyebrow as he closed his fingers back into a loose fist.

"I'm not wearing that ring, Maggie."

She watched as his expression changed from decided to downright agonized. "Blaine…"

"I mean it." His eyes filled with tears and he pleaded, "Please. I can't—I won't. It's yours. It's us. And if you're not—"

"But it _is_ us. The three of us. Just because—"

"No. I can't do it. I'm already afraid I can't do this, and I can't wear your—I can't pretend that by wearing it it's still us. Because it won't be. Please, Maggie. Take it with you."

Unprepared for his reaction, she recalculated. She had to respect where he was in this. It wasn't just happening to her. It was happening to him. To Adrian. To her parents. To all of them together and each of them as individuals. But, she was not going to be sent off into – wherever it was she was going – wearing the ring. If she had to come back as Zombie Maggie to assure it, she would find a way.

"Okay. Will you—will you at least consider it?"

"No."

"Please. Just—because if _you_ won't wear it, maybe save it for Adrian?" Their eyes met again and she gave every effort to smile, to ease, to calm – the one who'd done so much of that for her. "Someday his hands will be as big as yours."

He opened his fingers then and let her drop the chain with the ring into his palm. His hands were shaky with anxiety but he slipped the ring onto his right ring finger and stared at the antique gold, the three diamonds shining on top. "Hard to believe isn't it? Ade's hands this big one day."

She simply nodded, words failing her now. She will miss it. Adrian as a man. Adrian as a pimple-faced teenager. Adrian as anything older than right now – _four-and-almost-one-half years old_ , as he liked to announce.

"What if he feels the same way I do, Maggie?" He slips the ring off and curls the chain into his palm again. "I don't want it to sit in a jewelry box when it could be on you."

"I won't be here."

"Stop. You know what I mean—"

"Then if you or Adrian won't wear it, give it to the next best man to have it."

"Who—"

"The love of your life."

"Maggie—"

"The one who will make you a trio again. Give it to him. When you think about it, it really _is_ his."

"Maggie. _Please_."

"It's not mine anymore, Blaine. I can't uphold my end of the bargain. So, you decide. When it's time, you'll know."

He pulled the chain out of his hand and with tears streaming down his face, draped it over his neck, lifting the ring to her lips. "Bless it for us."

She kissed the ring and kissed Blaine, cupping his face in her hand, brushing tears away with her thumb. "I'll always love you, Blaine."

"You'll forever be my girl."

* * *

_Eight days later, on Monday, October 17, 2022, one of the most picturesque days we had that autumn, Maggie took her last breaths. She never really found her strength once she said goodbye to Adrian that day. But, she was able to play one final hand of gin-rummy with her father, taste a pinch of pumpkin pie and remind us over and over again that she loved us. She slept the final week of her life, waking only briefly to squeeze a hand and assure us we would be okay. She would be okay._

_Her mother, father and I were with her, and while it remains the most difficult thing I've ever had to endure, that day, those final moments, were some of the most mystical I've ever experienced._

_Allow me to explain. I've seen death over and over again. I've felt life leave a body – it's a job perk I'd just as soon do without. But sitting with her, watching her body slow, her breathing adjust – even though I could have done without that horrific death rattle from her lungs – and then to actually see and feel the peace wash over her as she made her way from this life into the next – it was more divine than I can begin to express. More divine than I ever believed to be real or possible in this world._

_As for me? Well, you know my story now. You know I dutifully kept every promise I made to her. And I continue to every day. Or, I try as hard as I can._

_I met the love of my life – and I'll be damned if she wasn't right that I'd have to go to him! And, as she predicted, he loved and continues to love my son – now_ our _son – in ways I simply cannot. Just like Maggie, he teaches me every day how to be a better husband, a better father, a better human being simply by loving me. He proudly wore Maggie's ring until we had it made into our wedding set, our constant reminder of where we came from, of where we're going as a family._

_Loving Kurt Hummel has been, by far, the most exhilarating thing I've ever experienced and I get the great pleasure of experiencing it every day for the rest of my life._

_And because of Maggie, because of the promises she asked me to keep, because of the way she taught me to love, Kurt and I raise Adrian with her in our midst. Whether she's watching us from that bay window as I imagine, or in the stars as Ade and Kurt do, she's never far from us, always nudging us to be the best we can possibly be – maybe even better._

> Quand tu regarderas le ciel, la nuit, puisque j'habiterai dans l'une d'elles, puisque je rirai dans l'une d'elles, alors ce sera pour toi comme si riaient toutes les étoiles.

_We love you, Maggie. We love you, Lizzie and Burt. Our love is because of you, our laughing, guiding stars._

~fin


End file.
